Memories Cold
by Whamsicle
Summary: A breif story about Legolas and Aragorn, so minutely slash it shouldn't even be called it. Its short and sweet and sad.


Hi There, Face here! *Giggles manically* Yes nicolodian for kids I think it is. It matters not. Neways, I was depressed one day and dicided to write this, it wasn't SUPPOSED to get posted but my ever annoying friend HACKED into my account and posted it so I suppose it will stay. I'm revamping it as I never had the chance to before *glares* Okay, thank you for the review, I appriciate it, and I know my spellings off. My computer just came back from the shop and *galres* Microsoft word is gone... again. I do so hate notepad.   
  
The sharp scent of winter struck the fair face of the young price of Mirkwood. The icy wind fought with the hood of his cloak, dark green, almost indistinguishable from black, the same that haunted his heart. His memory traced back to their first meeting.   
  
~Flash back~  
  
A young looking elf ran through the forest, quiet giggles echoing through the towering trees the bordered Rivendell. Legolas caught a glimpse of dark hair hidden in the leaves, far off and faint he heard the sound of a childs laughter. Making the loudest footsteps possible, he hurried along, leaves of gold, flaming red and bright orange crunching under foot. Autumn had always been his favourite season, colours were brighter now, brillant, the scents sharper. The rustling of dry brances revealed a hidden child, grinning down at Legolas from behind the trunk of a tree. The sight of the gray eyed boy made Legolas shiver, he was too high, way too high. "Come down right now Aragorn!" He cried in his sternest voice. "Now!" Aragorn chuckled, sure of himself and clambered higher. With a desprete sigh the elf climbed up swiftly, reaching the boy just as he got to the top. "Aragorn," he scolded "I told you to come down! You could have hurt yourself." The boy put on an innocent face, clearly false as his eyes glinted micheviously. "We're going down now. No more hide and seek today." Swinging the boy over his back he leapt down the tree. Aragorn grinned, impressed. "You climb good like me!" "As well as me." Legolas corrected. "And your a prince just like me!" This startled Legolas, "You're not a prince." The boy grinned and tackled him "Yes I am! Daddy," he paused and wrestled him to the ground, "says."   
  
~End Flash Back~   
  
How long had it been? Well over sixty years. They dragged on, how slowly time passed nowadays. He had not belived Aragorn, who would have belived an eight year old child. But long conversations with Elrond had confirmed it, though the Lord of Rivendell did not know what he had revealed. Legolas' frienship with Aragorn had grown, the man maturing, becoming hard and in the Elf's eyes handsome. The deep frienship bound between the two spurred something even deeper, something more meaningfull. Legolas sighed, the reminece almost bringing tears to his eyes, but would never fall. He had cried only twice in his lifetime, the day his friendship with the Heir of Gondor faltered.   
  
~Flash Back~ "Tis a gift! A gift to the foes of Mordor! Long has my father, the steward of Gondor kept the forces of Mordor at bay..." Legolas saw the passion in Boromir's face, heard it when his voice heated with feeling. "You cannot weild it, none of us can. The ring answers to Sauron alone, it has no other master." Aragorn. He watched his closest companion softly correct Boromir, yet the words spurred the fire in the first speakers eyes and he turned on him. "What would a mere ranger know of this matter?" His voice dripped with scarasm, distaste almost. Legolas stood, facign Boromir. "This is no mere Ranger. This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, you owe him your alligience." The council trembled, a murmer running through the crowd. Boromir voiced everyone's question. "Aragorn? This is Isulder's heir?" The Elf nodded almost smugly. "And heir to the throne to Gondor." For the first time since he had spoken he looked at Aragorn, his almost unreadable face showing naught, naught yet anger which brightened his eye. "Havo dad, Legolas." The cold fury behind his gaze was not to the steward of Gondor, but to the Prince of Mirkwood. He sat down quickly. That night had been one with Aragorn accusing him, and Legolas refusing to be domanited, for the first time, Aragorn had adknowledged his right to the throne to shy his life long friend, and for the first time, Legolas paid no heed to him. By the next morning they had parted, both hurt and angry beyond words, and both of had wept. Only when Boromir had died had they made up, and their friendship rekindled.   
  
~End Flash Back~  
  
He trailed aimlessly through the lavish halls of Mirkwood, the walls adorned with hangings of shades of green and brown and all decorated with shining white stones and gems. The sullen Elf passed them unnoticed. The day will still to freash in his mind, in his heart.   
  
~Flash Back~ A Gondorian man rode up to the inner gardens of Mirkwood to find Legolas sitting under a willow, distracted, a shadow had taken ahold of his mind for what reason, he knew not, but he was distraught nevertheless. "Your highness?" The messanger questioned, a defeated look on his face and indifference sounding in his voice. The elf stood up and studied him curiously. "Yes?" The man drew breath and looked around as if uncertain of how to say his words. "Elestar, the high king of Gondor has passed on two nights ago. It has been requested that you be present at the memorial service three days from now." The man figdited as he saw Legolas' face drain from flushed pink, to white, to deathly pale. He swayed, before catching himself. "Tell whomever is in charge now that I'll be there." He turned and walked away stiffly. A numb coldness washed over him. He felt nothing, the next day passed in a grey haze, and the long ride to Gondor flashed by, monotonous. Even the ceromony itself was dull. The speakers droned on, a distant buzzing, he remembered none of what they said. Then the viewing. Slowly, almost afraid he walked to the room. Lain in an oaken casket lay his best friend, his lover, his heart, his king. Dark hair streaked with gray at the temples was splayed out beneath him, the hardness of his face gone, replaced with a look of peace, a peace he had never had in life. Then he had cried. Cried a thousand seas, a hundred oceans. He cried like he would never stop, and then it did, and then came the darkness.   
  
~End Flash Back~   
  
And here he was, two years later and none for the better. His face had gained a stoney quality and his eyes showed less. Withdrawn and alone he wandered the dark halls, caring little for the sunshine and cool breeze that he so often had those years ago. But as he reflected, he felt else tug at his heart. A desprete yearning that had not been there before. The black cavity that had once held a soul stirred. He reconized it though he had never felt the feeling before. The Sea. The sudden need to hear gulls and the wave crashing tugged at his mind to no avail, and the desolate blacknes that covered him lifted, although slightly. It was the beginning of the end, or the end of a beginning, whatever though, it was something. And the elf strode off purposefully, the Sea awaited him. 


End file.
